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    The Dust: Short Story
    The Dust: Short Story
    The Dust: Short Story
    Ebook38 pages33 minutes

    The Dust: Short Story

    By James Loscombe

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    About this ebook

    Only the useful will survive

    Nick and Clara only want to stay alive for as long as they can, but The Matter Plant sweeps the land and it is only a matter of time before they are found and deemed useless. They eek out a nomadic existence in the scorched Earth, always watching, always waiting for their time to come. Until they meet Jed who offers them the hope of something more, IF they can make a final stand against the machine. If they refuse or fail, then they, and what remains of humanity, will be destroyed forever.

    The Dying & The Dust is a standalone post-apocalyptic story of survival, set after the singularity.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJames Loscombe
    Release dateMar 22, 2019
    ISBN9781386835844
    The Dust: Short Story
    Author

    James Loscombe

    James Loscombe has been publishing under various pen names for the last five years. He lives in England with his wife Tamzin and their sons Jude and Oscar.

    Read more from James Loscombe

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      Book preview

      The Dust - James Loscombe

      If you would like to read more by James then check out http://jloscombe.com/books/ where you will find a complete list of releases.

      If you would like to be the first to know when new titles are available (and receive copies of all James’ short stories for free, then click here http://jloscombe.com/subscribe/ to register.

      Dark clouds shifted ominously overhead, scarring the sky like a bruise. Below he could see the wind whipping the trees back and forth and blowing bits of discarded Matter along the deserted street.

      ‘It’s going to be a mean one,’ said a voice behind him.

      He turned away from the window. His wife stood before him. Her cheeks smeared with a black substance that might have been bio-oil. Her blue dungarees covered in the same. She had her blond hair pulled to the sides in bunches, held together by Mini-Mouse hair bobbles.

      ‘Are the kids in?’ he said.

      ‘The cotton tails are scared,’ she said. ‘I had to tranq the Browns, but they’ll get through it.’

      ‘They always do,’ he agreed. ‘Come on.’

      He took her hand and led her through the apartment. Past the Picasso, past the Monet, through the kitchen and into the bedroom which he had lit with candles scavenged before the Matter Plant could process them.

      She gasped when she saw that rose petals scattered across the bed in the shape of a heart.

      ‘Oh Nick,’ she said. ‘It’s wonderful.’

      He pulled her towards him and they kissed.

      ‘What’s gotten into you?’ she said. His arms were still around her and she didn’t try to remove them.

      ‘Someone’s got to enjoy it while it’s still here.’

      He kissed her again and they fell to the bed. The storm threw sheets of rain against the window while they made love with the curtains open.

      When they were done they lay with their sticky bodies together and listened to the weather. They smoked the cigarettes that she had saved from the supermarket. They were stale and dry.

      ‘It’s time to move on, isn’t it?’ she said.

      He nodded.

      ‘How long?’

      ‘The Plant’s in Westbridge,’ he said. He still used the old-world names for places. ‘We might have a week.’

      ‘Better be out sooner than that,’ she said. ‘No sense taking a chance with the kids.’

      ‘No,’ he agreed, there wasn’t.

      She put her head on his shoulder and he pulled her in close. He kissed her head and could smell the oil and grease on her.

      They put out their cigarettes and watched the candles burn until they spluttered out. Then they slept.

      Clara squeezed his hand as they reached the bottom of the fire escape. He paused and listened, but he couldn’t hear anything.

      ‘Do you think they’re alright?’ she said. ‘Nick I don’t know what

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